<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Dragon Drabbles by mt_lyfe</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23834989">Dragon Drabbles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mt_lyfe/pseuds/mt_lyfe'>mt_lyfe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Domestic Life of A Dragon [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Don't copy to another site, Dragon Drabbles, Dragon Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, Hijinks &amp; Shenanigans, Humor, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Teapot Dragon, Vampire Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Derek Hale, Writer's Block</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:06:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,628</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23834989</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mt_lyfe/pseuds/mt_lyfe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Stiles was ready to tear his hair off in frustration. Writer's block or artist's block or whatever <em> sucked. </em><br/>"Derek stand by the window and take your shirt off!" He needed to be <em> inspired. </em></p>
</blockquote>Or<p>Random drabbles of interactions between dragon Stiles and werewolf Derek because this potato needs inspiration.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Domestic Life of A Dragon [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804507</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>204</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>852</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have no idea how to string together the current story I'm working on... I don't know how to write plot Q_Q<br/>Drabbles because I’ve hit writer's block and I need fucking inspiration dammit!<br/><strong> Note: </strong> These are all drabbles of Stiles as a dragon and werewolf Derek.</p><p> </p><p>  <strong>Fic name changed</strong></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles yanked his hair in frustration adding more paint smears on his person. He didn’t notice and kicked at the blank easel before he got the urge to set it on aflame. They did not need the fire department kicking down the door… for the third time in a single month. </p>
<p>“I need fucking inspiration dammit. Derek get over here!”</p>
<p>A head poked out from the kitchen doorway.</p>
<p>“Go stand by the window with your shirt off.”</p>
<p>“Uh okay...” Used to his boyfriend’s strange requests he shuffled over to the window.</p>
<p>“A little more to the left… Holy shit on a cracker!”</p>
<p>The sunlight hit his bare chest at just the right angle. And those glorious abs… Derek shone like a Greek werewolf god. If that description made any sense at all but Stiles’ dick felt <em>fucking inspired. </em></p>
<p>Whelp it was worth a shot. His muse wasn’t coming back anytime soon so he threw his brushes aside and tackled Derek. Painting could wait, after all there was only so much sunlight left.</p>
<p>“Umph! Stiles not in front of the window again!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You gotta leave the nest someday right?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This is a bad idea.”</p><p>They were all gathered on the roof of the Stilinski household.</p><p>“Mother birds do this all the time.” Isaac said encouragingly. </p><p>“You mean tossing their babies from the nest to learn how to fly?! Which universe in your wolfy brains do you think that is considered a good idea?!”</p><p>“Gotta leave the nest sooner or later.” Derek said nonchalantly.</p><p>The next thing he knew, Stiles was experiencing the sensation of weightlessness followed by a “Holy baby Jesus” he was falling! That was the ground <em>ohshitohshitohshit! </em></p><p>Screaming. There was so much screaming and flailing in midair and mere seconds before turning into a Stiles pancake on the pavement he felt a tingle down his spine and his bones started cracking. He heard a rip his t-shirt tore as–</p><p>“Holy mother of dragons I got wings!”</p><p>Cheering and whistles sounded from the roof.</p><p>Remembering how he nearly kissed the pavement Stiles shot back up to the roof flapping his newly found wings angrily. He shoved his face into one indifferent werewolf with a resting bitch face.</p><p>“You threw me off the roof!”</p><p>“It worked didn’t it?”</p><p>“Is nobody going to comment on the fact that Derek threw me off the roof?!”</p><p>“You’re fine though right?” Scott chipped in ever the intermediary.</p><p>“You guys all suck! I will eat you and rain vengeance on all your silverware!!”</p><p>“Yea buddy try that line again when you’re more than 5 feet of lizard.” Erica snickered.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Wooing a werewolf by an awkward dragon</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Scott! I need some info on cross species dating, how do you woo a werewolf gimmie some tips!”</p><p>Ever the supportive best friend Scott said “Uh… well wolves find it really attractive if a potential mate is strong. To protect the pups you know? And you’re a dragon, can’t imagine a mystical creature that’s stronger than a dragon.”</p><p>“Awesome! Step one show him my dragon shift! What else?”</p><p>“And uh they really like it when their mate can provide for them like hunt food.”</p><p>“Step two! Offer him your best cheese grater!”</p><p>“Well wolves also like family, closeness an– wait what. Cheese grater?! Stiles think like a wolf! We don’t like shiny metal things as much as dragons!”</p><p>“It’s my best cheese grater though, I polish it everyday.” Stiles whined.</p><p>“Bad dragon. Put that on hold til <em> at least </em> the tenth date.”</p><p>“So you’re saying it’s still possible!”</p><p>“Stiles!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I sneezed. It went boom.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Inspired by this <a href="https://unblockingwritersblock.tumblr.com/"> Tumblr writing prompt</a></p><p>I think this is one of my favorites so far. Still trying to work on upping my word count... I'm really jealous of those people that can write 5k++ and here I am struggling to hit 1k words.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They came back to the meet point... Which wasn't a clearing before but now is. With blackened trees and burnt grass. Right in the middle of the scorched ring was a green dragon decked with random patches of red scales, that if on a human would look like moles. The dragon was squatting on his hind legs, arms crossed and tail lashing. All in all, looking quite disgruntled at the surroundings. </p><p>There was a pause as the pack took in the new landscape.</p><p>“Stiles...” Derek began.</p><p>“I'm fine. Dragons are fireproof.” He grumbled.</p><p>“You know when we said to watch the explosives...”</p><p>“If you're assigning blame to anyone, you left flammables in the hands of a dragon. With hay fever. I sneezed. It went boom.” His tail started lashing wildly and he continued his rant. “I don't bring up your wolfy issues when you get a bit furry on the full moon and like to sniff butts. My allergies are a touchy subject.”  Smoke started to spiral out of his snout.</p><p>Isaac gulped. Note to self: Stiles is allergic to gun powder. </p><p>“Stiles… calm down why don’t you shift back?” Scott suggested.</p><p>“I can’t my clothes aren’t fireproof. They went up in cinders.”</p><p>“Well how are we going to sneak your naked ass back into town?” Erica spoke up.</p><p>“Like Adam and Eve?” Isaac suggested.</p><p>“For fuck sakes dude. You are <em> not </em> making me walk home wearing leaves. Derek hand over your clothes. Your wolfy ass lives on the preserve.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The obligatory quarantine post</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Inspired by <a href="https://unblockingwritersblock.tumblr.com">This Tumblr writing prompt</a></p><p>That's all the drabbles lurking in my head so far. I'll add more if I ever think of anything in the future.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Stiles put that down.”</p><p>“No!”</p><p>Derek approached cautiously toward the glass screen separating him from Stiles. He had a golf club in his grip ready to swing, jail break baby. Literally.</p><p>“Derek I wanna go out!”</p><p>“No you can't. Chicken pox is contagious.”</p><p>“It’s dragon pox! I’m a dragon! And I just want to stretch my wings!”</p><p>“For the last time, just because you’re a dragon doesn’t automatically make it dragon pox. It doesn’t exist. How did you get that club anyways? Tell me Scott didn't sneak that in for you. Tell me the truth.”</p><p>“Well I can't do both.”</p><p>“…”</p><p>Stiles lowered the club grudgingly. </p><p>“I thought I had some built-in immunity to this shit, I’m not even human!”</p><p>“It’s just for a couple weeks.”</p><p>“But I want to bring destruction to mankind now!”</p><p>“You aren't one of the four horseman and you are not going to take me out with a golf club and a bad case of spots.”</p><p>“Come on, it'll be funny. Think of the panic if someone sees a dragon covered in pox fall from the sky.”</p><p>He teetered and started to doze off standing on his feet.</p><p>“You big baby. You’re not going to fly anywhere with that fever. When this is over we'll go to that sushi place that you really like down the street.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Basically I want sushi. NOW. ALL the sushi!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's hot. Summer is coming.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Feeling lonely and isolated, I need to post something. &gt;: Someone talk to meeeee.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was during the hottest day of the summer. The pack was gathered at Derek's loft sprawled on the couch in front of a fan running at maximum speed. All wearing minimal clothing and proverbial tongues hanging out the side of their mouths. The only one missing was Stiles. </p><p>“Where is Stiles anyways?” Scott wondered.</p><p>“Dunno he said he needed to cool off.” Derek grumbled.</p><p>“Hey, we're out of lemonade, who’s turn is it this time?” Erica spoke up.</p><p>With a shrug Isaac when to the fridge to grab some more. There was a shriek. The pack meandered into the kitchen to see what set Isaac off this time.</p><p>Isaac was standing stock still with a death grip on the fridge door handle eyes fixed at the contents in the fridge.</p><p>They all gathered around and peered in.</p><p>Wrapped around the pitcher of said lemonade and cases of cold beer was Stiles. </p><p>“Why is there a dragon in the refrigerator?!” Isaac wailed.</p><p>“Whelp guess that's where Stiles went.” Derek muttered. </p><p>The lucky little shit could change sizes to fit into different spaces. </p><p>Stiles glared up at them. “Close the door you're letting the cold out!”</p><p>“How is a dragon overheating? You produce fire naturally.” Erica pointed out.</p><p>“Northern dragons like the cold more. Door. Shut. Cold. Now.” Stiles continued to glare up at them.</p><p>The pack stood for a minute to silently ponder this new fact.</p><p>“OUT!!” Came the final roar followed by 5 feet of flame to prove his point. </p><p>The wolves’ preternatural reflexes saved them from being singed as they jumped back, and the fridge door was slammed shut from the inside.</p><p>“Guess he’s hogging all the cold drinks too.” Derek grumbled and walked off.</p><p>“Think he’d be mad if we use the ice dispenser?” Isaac hesitantly brought up. They gulped. Better not risk it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Inspired by <a href="https://unblockingwritersblock.tumblr.com/page/24&gt;">This Tumblr prompt</a><br/>“I can’t believe we’ve been here less than fifteen minutes and we’re already lost in a corn field.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Looks like I lied when I said I was all out of ideas. I really hope this doesn't turn into 100 chapters of drabbles. I don't think many of you would stick with me and my derpiness for that long.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Derek walked ahead of them slashing a path through the field of corn with his claws. It was all corn stalks for miles. So much corn. Trailing behind him was a sulking Stiles in his dragon form out of breath and wings drooping. </p>
<p>“When you asked if I wanted a ride, I was thinking of something else entirely. Now we're stuck in the middle of a corn field.” Derek grumbled.</p>
<p>“Give me a few minutes and I can get it up again!”</p>
<p>“Please don't refer to your wings like that. We'll walk home the normal way.”</p>
<p>“You had fun!”</p>
<p>“Sure. Until you crash landed us in the middle of a corn field.”</p>
<p>“It was my first time!”</p>
<p>“Please. Stop. I can't take anymore of those innuendos.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is so corny... I'm sorry. (Did you see what I did there?)</p>
<p>Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments keep me fed!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Date night</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I think I'm just about all written out about dragons. Eyeing the vampire trope. Got plenty of ideas written down... Don't know what will become of it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles was in dragon heaven. Neck deep in the bargain bin looking for buried treasure, wading and sorting through the various trinkets and so much shiny.</p><p>"Hey Derek, check out this glow in the dark teapot!”</p><p>A strong pair of arms reached in and pulled him up and out. Stiles yelped at the abrupt shift, disoriented from being forcefully relocated.</p><p>“Come on, we're not going to spend all of date night diving for buried treasure at the Dollar Store.” </p><p>Normally Stiles was the one that could be counted on to be rational and cleared headed out of the two of them. Until he ran into a bucket of shiny at least. Then it became Derek’s job. It was a frightening thought that anything resembling gold could derail a calculating Stiles. </p><p>“My turn now, I’m hungry let's go chase some rabbits. You can roast them.”</p><p>“But treeeeasure!” Stiles wailed making grabby hands at the bin mournfully as he was dragged further and further away. Derek gripped the back of his T-shirt tighter; less Stiles made a run for it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>That story I said I was working on in the first chapter? It's done now! Success! </p><p>Sick of my jokes yet? If not, check out my latest dragon Stiles story!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Let's roleplay</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here's a random vampire drabble. Someone shoot me before I come up with anymore lame jokes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Derek! Derek! Let’s role play!”</p><p>Derek looked up from reading his book to find Stiles holding up several different… costumes? Uniforms?</p><p>“Do you want to wear this French maid uniform or this Catholic high school female uniform while I suck your blood?”</p><p>The hell. Did he order that online or steal it right from the source? Derek did not want the answer to that question.</p><p>“I want a divorce.”</p><p>“You can’t divorce me! It’s called alimony. Half of what’s yours will be mine, therefore I get half your blood.”</p><p>“…I hate you.”</p><p>“You love me! I’m feeling like foie gras today. French maid uniform it is! We can defile God’s altar tomorrow.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Medieval AU</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yup, still incapable of writing anything serious.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“We need help!” The young lord knelt at the foot of the King’s dais. </p><p>“The town is in chaos! Without your assistance it’ll be in ruins in a matter of days! A monster has been wrecking havoc! My men have gone against the great beast only to be defeated one by one!” He continued dramatically. “There’s a dragon on the loose!”</p><p>King Derek raised an eyebrow. The lords were always so dramatic. “By wrecking havoc you mean…?”</p><p>“Uh well, your Majesty,” the lord stammered, face going slightly red with shame. “Its been hoarding the town’s silverware for 3 days now. Everyone has had to eat with their hands. Like common folk! It’s a disgrace!”</p><p>Derek looked up at the ceiling in prayer. Sweet Mother Moon, this was his life. </p><p>Yesterday he had to deal with a complaint about a giant lizard walking into the neighbouring tavern. The bartender was frozen with terror while the lizard kept growling something that sounded strangely like ‘ale’. Then finally lost his patience and crawled over the bar to served himself. The tavern emptied rather quickly after that. </p><p>The week before that there were disturbing reports of a she-wolf ogling the knights on the training ground salivating like they were her next meal. He had to reassure his men countless times that Erica was harmless, and she was only there to watch a shirtless Boyd.</p><p>A strong wind came from the wide opened window in the meeting chamber blasting a few of the chancellors to the ground and ruffling Derek’s hair. It only served to make his mop of hair look more like sexy bed hair. He stayed in his seat, unperturbed by the sudden gust of wind. </p><p>A giant green dragon descended onto the balcony and perched on the railing. Before the knights could recover from their surprise and unsheathe their swords to attack, Derek spoke up. “That is Prince Stiles, my Consort. You and your knights are not to harm him.” </p><p>Then he addressed Stiles. “Babe quit stealing the cutlery. The castle kitchen has plenty. While you’re at it tell Jackson to stop visiting neighbouring bars while he’s a lizard.”</p><p>His pack really needed to get their shit together. It was causing him to do unnecessary paperwork.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When you realize you're the Pack's portable matchstick</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As often as I call my own writing derpy, I'm actually laughing pretty hard at my own jokes. I'm the worse. Thanks for all the kudos, comments and subscribes. The encouragement means a lot.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles had had enough. He was always put in charge of grilling the meat. He was tired of being used as a makeshift BBQ grill. The pack clued in early on that it was much easier to bring Stiles along to camping rather than lug a grill with them. Reason being Stiles came with a pair of functioning legs whereas a grill didn’t. Werewolf strength didn’t cure laziness. No one had the ability to make a fire with flint and steel.</p><p>“Stiles buddy!” Scott called. “I forgot to bring the matches come here and sneeze on this will you?”</p><p>“Leave Stiles alone.” Derek answered. “It’s pollen season. His aim is terrible when he’s dealing with hay fever. Remember the last time we took him camping during winter with the flu and he managed to start a forest fire?”</p><p>Thanks, Derek for the embarrassing save.</p><p>“At least light the bonfire, it doesn’t require much aim!”</p><p>Stiles boiled with anger; he could only put up with being used for free labour for so long!</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Insert shameless advertisement here for my newest fic of Satan! Stiles. Comes with just as many derpy jokes.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Even a dragon needs a getaway driver</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were driving home from the grocery store. Traffic was relatively light, and they were making good headway to be home with plenty of time to prepare for their pack dinner. A thump sounded above the van followed by the faint wail of sirens echoing in the distance. Everyone looked upward at the direction of the noise, toward the roof of the van.</p><p>Derek who was driving didn’t even flinch, took a hand off the wheel and reached for the button to open the sunroof cassette. A green dragon about the size of a golden retriever slithered into the van and immediately headed for shotgun. Which was currently occupied by Boyd.</p><p>Boyd looked down at the dragon on his lap and raised an eyebrow in silent judgement. He immediately spotted the necklace strung around its long scaly neck, encasing the largest and most lustrous blue diamond he had ever seen. If memory served him correctly, the piece of jewelry looked <em>exactly</em> like the Hope Diamond on display at the current exhibition held at the local museum which they <em>just</em> drove past.</p><p>Out of breath and panting heavily, Stiles spoke up. “I may have started a small fire. I mean, not really. Totally. I promise. But hypothetically speaking that’s a thing you need to be aware of.”</p><p> </p><p>The sirens behind them were growing louder and if Derek bothered to look in the rear-view mirror, the cars behind them were already starting to pull over. Not that Derek had any intention of stopping.</p><p> </p><p>Five firetrucks came screeching around the corner on the opposite lane, sirens blasting and zoomed past them. This time Derek did check the rear-view mirror. In the distance, he could see a plume of black smoke spiraling toward the sky.</p><p> </p><p>Isaac in the back seat was fully turned around griping the headrest, staring out the rear window into the distance. “That does not look like a small fire!”</p><p> </p><p>The flashing blue and red sirens of at least three police cars and a helicopter came into view.</p><p> </p><p>“Minor details! Now <em>get</em>!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dragons get the flu too</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My head is in a really bad place right now, I need floof.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“…missing sheets from the dryer, happened same time last year too!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Happened to me too! We should really complain to management and get cameras installed!”</em>
</p>
<p>Derek's ears perked at familiar voices coming from the other side of the aisle. It sounded like their neighbours in their apartment complex. He gave a sigh and reached for the cough drops dropping them into the shopping cart. He made a detour to the meat section and grabbed a whole chicken before heading to pay.</p>
<p>Juggling the groceries in one hand to unlock the front door, he stepped into their shared apartment and was immediately overwhelmed by the sudden shift in temperatures from the chilly outdoors to what felt like suddenly walking into an oven. He turned the corner and was promptly met with the sight of assorted blankets piled high in the living room. He was right. </p>
<p>The blanket nest in the living room was usually an indication that Stiles was sick if he didn't already catch on what with hearing their neighbours complain.</p>
<p>Stiles’ cold-blooded body didn’t do well the drastic shifts in temperature that came with the change of seasons. He caught the summer cold and winter flu like clockwork, twice a year. Once a year when the temperature dropped, he stole their neighbours blankets and comforters to build a nest. Burying himself under the blankets to maintain body heat he usually needed a week to fully adjust and suffered with the flu and cold sweats the entire time.</p>
<p>The lump of blankets shuffled and deep within a buried Stiles' muffled voice could be heard.</p>
<p>“…Der?”</p>
<p>“I'm home.”</p>
<p>“I feel like shit.” Snuffling could be heard accompanied by nose blowing and crumpled tissues were shooting out of the breathing hole at the top of the blanket fort, landing on the floor like popcorn.</p>
<p>“I picked up some cough drops, take them before you start coughing embers and set things on fire again.” He tossed the box of cough drops through the breathing hole and a clunk could be heard as it landed on a sick Stiles' head.</p>
<p>“...thanks Der.”</p>
<p>“I'm going to make some chicken noodle soup.”</p>
<p>He came back to the living room shortly with a hot bowl of soup in one hand and a new box of tissues in the other. This time he placed both on the floor in front of the nest. </p>
<p>Scaly clawed paws shot out and snatched the two items dragging it into its lair. The renewed sound of sneezing followed by gulping of hot soup could be heard.</p>
<p>“…you’re the best.” The voice was still nasally, but much clearer than a few minutes ago.</p>
<p>“Do you need anything else?”</p>
<p>“…cuddles.”</p>
<p>Derek gave an affectionate sigh and shucked his clothes. Dropping to all fours as a wolf he nosed into the nest to join his mate. Shared body heat always helped.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Anything I should add to tags to make searching for this easier? I don't like to bombard the tags but let me know if I'm missing anything important.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: “I could steal them for you. I could also get them through legitimate means. Which would impress you more?”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Prompt comes from this <a href="https://sterekshaven.tumblr.com/post/171875607042">Tumblr Blog</a>. Found it while reading <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/13982520">This Drabble</a> By Smowkie</p><p>(I don't even know, the stuff that comes out of my head. I just want to procrastinate.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles was perusing the silverware in the cooking aisle when out of the corner of his eye he saw the most gorgeous human being pushing a shopping cart down the aisle of Walmart. He was glaring intently at the selection of mixing bowls as if it had somehow insulted him.</p><p>And right in his peripheral was also the <em>shiniest</em> can opener he had ever seen. He just spotted two of the most glorious things at once. It was meant to be!</p><p>“Quick Scotty! Tall Dark and Scruffy over there, do you think he'd be more impress if I stole it or if I got it with legitimate means?”</p><p>“Steal what?” To his credit Scott didn’t even seem faze at such a random question.</p><p>“The can opener! The glorious thing sitting on the display case by the window!”</p><p>“The hell would he need a can opener for?”</p><p>“Because its shiny! Historically speaking, shiny things have been used to woo people! Get with the times! Alright I’ve decided! If I steal it, it proves to him that I can provide!”</p><p>“Hold on, <em>Stiles!</em>” Scott quickly grabbed onto the back of the hyperactive dragon’s t-shirt before he could lunge toward the display case. “There’s a difference between a diamond ring and a can opener on display at Walmart!”</p><p>“Oh my god you’re right! I have to put a ring on it! I think I saw handcuffs in aisle 7!”</p><p> Now he really lost Stiles as he beelined toward said aisle. He was a dragon on a mission!</p><p>“Just thought I'd mention, dude’s a werewolf! He heard you the whole time!” Scott shouted, hoping that it would reach him.</p><p><em>“Good! Tell him I’m going to court the shit out of him!”</em> Stiles’ voice echoed back like he was already halfway across the store.</p><p>Shaking his head Scott’s eyes met said fellow werewolf down the aisle. He didn’t bother to raise his voice this time knowing the other could hear him perfectly fine. “You might as well stay until he comes back... Stiles will hunt you down either way. Once he’s got his eyes set on some treasure he’s not going to let go.”</p><p>The other wolf snorted and walked off.</p><p> </p><p>Derek paid for his groceries and headed into the parking lot toward his car. Loading his bags in the back, he got into drivers’ seat and startled. Somehow beyond his notice there was that skinny pale kid from the store sitting in the passenger seat.</p><p>“Derek! How rude! You didn’t even wait for me to come back!”</p><p>He flashed his eyes and growled. “How do you know my name? Are you a hunter?”</p><p>“Don’t be silly, I checked your drivers license.” He tossed his wallet back towards him.</p><p>“How the hell–"</p><p>“I’m going to woo you <em>sooo </em>hard! Starting with this!” Stiles held up a pair of handcuffs and with lightening speed cuffed him to the steering wheel.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>More floof. Summer fever.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Derek sighed and changed the moist towel on Stiles’ forehead. He was boiling over despite being surrounded with fans turned on full blast. Anymore and the bed would ignite. He ran a gentle hand down his spine brushing in between his wings. </p><p>Stiles shivered and moaned half lucid. </p><p>Poor thing. Dragon fevers. What was he going to do with that much comatose dragon taking up the whole bed. Stiles was too sick to change back to human form. He would boil over. His human body couldn't take the increase in temperature, so he had been stuck as a dragon for over a week.</p><p>Right before his fever hit, he still managed to steal all the fans in their apartment complex. Yep their neighbours would lynch them if they actually knew who the cat burglar in the building was. So far, they'd attributed it to random burglary. </p><p>“Der hug.” </p><p>“Werewolves run pretty hot. You'll heat up.” </p><p>“Don't care. Cuddles. I deserve sick cuddles; you've been sleeping on the couch because I took up the whole bed.” He mumbled. A clawed hand reached blindly and latched onto Derek’s shirtsleeve tugging.</p><p>Derek couldn't help but indulge him and slipped out of his clothing to shift into wolf form. Nuzzling up to his mate he gave a tentative lick to his cheek to check his temperature. It seemed a little lower already. Perhaps cuddles were magical after all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Multipurpose dragon</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm currently stuck trying to write a werebunny!Stiles fic where he gets put in a pot. My unhealthy fixation with kitchen equipment isn't going away anytime soon.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Derek woke up to a chilly winter morning. The bed was toasty warm because sometime during the night Stiles had slipped into dragon shift and the little furnace was currently curled up on his chest in a tight ball. It was time to get up even if it was too cold outside for his daily run but keeping the routine was good. </p><p>Not wanting to deal with the initial morning cold the minute he got out of bed, carefully dislodging Stiles from his chest to slip him around his neck. There. Like a heated scarf. Stiles only grumbled mildly still mostly asleep but otherwise no other complaints were made about the change of position.</p><p>Padding into the kitchen he got the coffee brewing and started to fry the bacon and eggs. The smell of food might persuade Stiles to wake up. He absent-mindedly poked some bacon at Stiles which he half-heartedly nibbled. He had barely moved from his perch around Derek’s neck aside from snuffling along his throat and curling in tighter. Looks like he wanted more sleep. Fair enough, he stayed up late crooning over the silver goblet that had just arrived in the mail. </p><p>“I’m going to shower. Guard the food and don’t let the pack eat it all.” Setting Stiles down still asleep on the kitchen table next to the heaping plate of breakfast he headed off to shower.</p><p>Coming back out, he found the pack had already invaded his kitchen and was busy conquering the stacks of bacon and eggs. Ungrateful shits. They knew only to show up after food was ready. Noticing that Stiles wasn’t where he last left him, he grumbled, “where’s Stiles?”</p><p>“Oh, he’s hiding in the mailbox.” Scott mumbled around a mouthful of bacon.</p><p>“Again?” Seems like Stiles gets his kicks from scaring the mailman.</p><p>“Well they messed up his package again. It ended up on the neighbour’s steps instead. He was <em>pissed</em>. And you know what they say about a dragon’s wrath. He wants revenge.”</p><p>“That guy is eventually going to file charges if Stiles keeps popping out of the mailbox like a rabid lizard and snapping at the poor man’s fingers.” Derek sighed.</p><p>Why get a guard dog to chase the mailman away when you have a Stiles?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The things a cold-blooded creature does for warmth</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I like the idea of tiny dragons. Like Mushu from Mulan. And then I have a strange fixation of throwing Stiles into things like mailboxes, pots, the fridge (twice) and finally the oven. I don't even know anymore. </p>
<p>Thank you all for reading, the support, comments, and kudos!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Heated flooring was the invention of the gods. Being the cold-blooded reptile that he was, Stiles was attracted to heat. RE: pressing up against Derek during movie nights because werewolves emitted an <em>insane</em> amount of body heat. It was heavenly. And when the convenient portable Werewolf Space Heater wasn't available the next best thing was the heated flooring. Derek would often come home from work to find him glued to the kitchen tiles napping. He would give a fond sigh and peel Stiles off the floor, settle him onto his lap for some dinner and TV on the couch. Then Stiles would superglue himself to Derek instead.</p>
<p>Well to be completely honest the oven was actually the warmest. How did he know? Stiles <em>loved</em> fresh baked cookies. One time the oven light broke. An impatient Stiles got the bright idea to crawl in with the double chocolate chip cookies so he could watch with morbid fixation as the dough expanded, puffed, and turned golden brown. </p>
<p>The warmth was heavenly, not to mention the aroma of melted chocolate was simply divine. Then Derek opened the oven door to check on the cookies and he found a fat little dragon passed out from food coma sprawled beside the baking tray and no cookies in sight. Who knew such a tiny dragon could pack that many cookies? </p>
<p>Or that other incident where Stiles thought it was a good idea to rig the oven to bypass the maximum allowable safe temperature, cranking it up to 500°C (932°F) so he could take a nap inside, causing the oven itself to set fire. Damn and it was the perfect temperature too. In short, no more oven privileges for Stiles. So the heated flooring it was.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><strike>This is the last chapter for this series. If I think of anymore I will start a new collection of drabbles. I just have an issue with seeing a million chapters in one story, so i'll try to keep the chapter numbers down.</strike> I am a lying liar who lies. I don't want to think of another title and summary so there is now another chapter.</p>
<p>I have a Tumblr now if you want to chat! (I don't know how to use it, but it's there.) <a href="https://mtlyfe.tumblr.com/">mtlyfe</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chapter 10 Medieval AU cont.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Prompts: “I may have started a forest fire.” and “I am five minutes away from saying fuck it and setting it on fire.” Taken from <a href="https://unblockingwritersblock.tumblr.com">unblockingwritersblock</a>'s tumblr. </p><p>So someone asked for more Medieval AU from chapter 10 and I was thinking, dude I don't know, I'm completely out of ideas. Hey there's a prompt sitting around in my notes, so here's some crack. I still can't believe people actually read my work.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Derek looked at the latest report to fall onto his desk. He sighed heavily and began the long weary trek back to his bedchambers to get answers.</p><p>He entered the room to the familiar sights of pearl white flooring and a large four poster bed with scarlet and gold sheets—the colours of the Hale royal family. Off to the side was a brick stack of golden bullions filled with a mountain heap of coins and shiny trinkets piled high in a shimmering golden splendor. It was oddly out of place in a bedroom if not for the dragon whom he was sharing said rooms with.</p><p>“Stiles,” he called.</p><p>The pile shifted; a few coins dislodged from the top falling to the floor in a musical clink before a head poked out from inside the pile. “Yes?” He blinks innocently.</p><p>That look doesn't work on Derek anymore. That’s what he keeps telling himself anyways. “What did you do today?”</p><p>“I... went for a walk,” big bright yellow slit cat-like eyes stared back at him.</p><p>A raised eyebrow, “and?”</p><p>“Fine! I was craving fish and I heard the villagers raving about this fancy new imported fish dish called SA-SHE-ME, so I went to try it out. It was bloody fucking raw! Why would raw food cost more than cooked food? If I wanted the wildlife experience, I would have taken a page out from Malia’s guide to living like a savage and walked into the jungle and eaten the first thing that moved. So I said fuck it and cooked it myself. I may have overshot it.”</p><p>Derek didn’t need to be reminded of that other situation that still needed to be dealt with. Ever since Malia came back from living off the grid and discovered the wonders of having a personal chef, she’d been literally nipping at Cook’s heels to get fed. He was never going to be able to keep a chef in the castle for longer than a week if she kept at it. Fucking barbarians, his pack. The workload was never going to get better.</p><p>He turned his attention back to Stiles. “Straw huts Stiles! Straw! Peasants can only afford to build their houses out of straw! <em>Dried</em> straw!”</p><p>Being fireproof himself, Stiles often forgot other things were not quite the same. “I'm sorry I forgot!”</p><p>“So I get why there are reports saying that the village tavern is on fire, but why are they claiming it’s from a new species of demon fire breathing wolf from Hell?”</p><p>“Oh that, the tavern started catching fire, so I placed the blame on Isaac.”</p><p>Paperwork.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Some things are a bit too literal. Like teapots. And dragons.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mounds of clothing piled high on every available chair waiting to be folded. Papers, magazines, flyers stacked on every table never making it into the recycle bin. Okay so they'd neglected cleaning their apartment lately. But after a long grueling day, all Stiles wanted was a bath. Right now. And their tub was growing some sort of funny red mold. It was like this everyday: too tired to clean because there was too much cleaning to do because they’d been putting it off. Okay. This was the moment he was going to break the vicious cycle. He can do this. He can work with what little energy he had. He just had to get the tea steeping for when his boyfriend came home. Derek was going to be <em>so </em>surprised.</p><p>Derek came home from a long workday to the usual clutter of their apartment. Admittedly the mess was piling up but the two of them had been so busy lately. What he always liked after a long day was a nice hot cup of tea. He could smell one already steeping in the kitchen. His boyfriend was amazi— stopping short at the kitchen entrance he stared. Stiles. The tea. Let me rephrase, Stiles was in the teapot. Steeping with his precious chrysanthemum tea leaves. His dragon boyfriend was shifted and taking a hot BATH in the teapot with <em>his</em> tea leaves!</p><p>
  <em>“STILES!”</em>
</p><p>(“I thought it would have been a great surprise! You love tea leaves, and you love me! Two of your favourite things in one pot, how could it have gone wrong?”)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm sorry for my derpy attempts at humor. I'm still stuck on this one scene from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them where Newt says "Roach. In teapot" and all I can think of are tiny dragons in teapots. </p><p>Here's a <a href="https://mtlyfe.tumblr.com/post/633704953609912320/image-description-cricket-from-mulan-bathing-in">GIF</a> of the cricket from Mulan chillaxing in a teacup and that's how I imagine dragon Stiles.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's not what it looked like.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm still trying to get one more thing out before the year is over, but I'm stuck, so I come back to these drabbles and try to write something silly to try and unstuck myself. &gt;w&lt;</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s not what it looked like,” Stiles grumbled. He was sitting on top of the closed toilet lid, clad in only boxers while Derek cleaned and disinfected his injuries.</p><p>Derek eyed him up and down as he continued to peel the backing off the Batman bandages and place them over the multitude of scratches and bites littered around Stiles’ face and along his arms. He said cautiously, “it looks to me like you lost a fight with the neighbour’s cat. Over the last can of tuna.”</p><p>Stiles bristled, “cats are apex predators! <em>Never</em> underestimate one! They’re vicious little shits!”</p><p>Isaac was sitting outside the washroom doing a fantastic impression of hyena laughter. The door was ajar, and he could hear everything.</p><p>“I’m going to have to reset my entire mental image of you.” Derek was trying not to smile. It was tough not to laugh at the image of a little dragon squaring off with the neighbour’s grey and white-stripped tabby.</p><p>In fact, Isaac being the asshole that he was, watched rather than intervened with the fight. Even though he was a werewolf, he seemed to have an irrational fear of cats and something about cat scratch fever. Probably a fear he had carried over from his human days. Though that didn't stop him from filming the entire thing through the living room window.</p><p>But yes, Stiles being a were-dragon wasn’t actually as cool and mystical as it sounded. It was an over exaggeration to call him a dragon when the dragon heritage on his mother’s side was so diluted over the centuries that he was closer to being a lizard than a dragon. The only thing dragon-like about his shift was that he was larger than the average reptile–slightly bigger than a puppy—with the ability to cough out sparks and act as a distraction by setting off the smoke alarm.</p><p>He was no match for the neighbour’s almost feral she-cat who patrolled the street on a daily basis like she owned it. She was the queen of the street. And Stiles <em>had </em>to go and try to steal the can of tuna that her owner left out for her. But really, he just wanted the can because the sunlight hit it at just the right angle that Stiles <em>swore</em> up and down that it was sparkling like a diamond.</p><p>Dragons and their constant need for treasure.</p><p>So all in all, it was <em>exactly</em> what it looked like.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>